C paniard would make. So very dreadful had he made himself to me, that although it is above twenty years fince I felt his heavy hand, yet ftill once a month at least I dream of him, fo ftrong an impreffion did he make on my mind. It is a fign he has fully terrified me waking, who still continues to haunt me sleeping, 6 And yet I may say without vanity, that the bufinefs of the fchool was what I did without great difficulty; and I was not remarkably unlucky; and yet fuch was the mafter's feverity, that once a month, or oftener, I fuffered as • much as would have fatisfied the law of the land for a Petty Larceny. Many a white and tender hand, which the ⚫ fond mother had paffionately kiffed a thousand and a thousand times, have I feen whipped until it was covered with blood: perhaps for fmiling, or for going a yard and half out of a " gate, or for writing an O for an A, or an A for C and are fo full of themfelves as to give diftur. 'bance to all that are about them. Sometimes ( you have a fet of whifperers who lay their heads 'together in order to facrifice every body within 'their obfervation; fometimes a fet of laughers, that keep up an infipid mirth in their own corner, and by their noife and geftures fhew they have no refpect for the reft of the company. You frequently meet with thefe fets at the opera, the play, the water-works, and other 'public meetings, where their whole bufinefs is to draw off the attention of the fpectators from the entertainment, and to fix it upon themfelves; and it is to be obferved that the impertinence is ever loudeft, when the fet happens to be made up of three or four females who have got what you call a woman's man among them. 'I am at a lofs to know from whom people of fortune fhould learn this behaviour, unless it be from the footmen who keep their places at a new play, and are often seen paffing away their time in fets at all-fours in the face of á 'full houfe, and with a perfect difregard to the 'people of quality fitting on each fide of them. For preferving therefore the decency of public affemblies, methinks it would be but rea'fonable that thofe who difturb others should 6 an O: these were our great faults! Many a brave and noble spirit has been there broken! • others have run from thence and were never heard of afterwards. It is a worthy attempt to undertake the cause of diftreffed youth: and it is a noble piece of knight-errantry to enter the lifts against fo many armed pedagogues. It is pity but we had a fet of men, polite in their behaviour and method of teaching, who fhould be put into a condition of being above flattering or fearing the parents of thofe they inftruct. We might then poffibly fee learning become a pleafure, and children delighting themfelves in that which now they abhor for coming upon fuch hard terms to them, what would be ftill a greater happinefs arifing from the care of fuch inftru&tors, would be, that we fhould have e · no more pedants, nor any bred to learning who had not genius for it. am, with the utmoft fincerity, < pay at least a double price for their places; or 'rather women of birth and diftinction fhould be informed, that a levity of behaviour in the eyes of people of understanding degrades them below their meanest attendants; and gentlemen fhould know that a fine coat is a livery, when the perfon who wears it discovers no higher sense than that of a footman. I am, Sir, your moft humble fervant.' Bedfordshire, Sept. 1, 1711. Mr. Spectator, AM one of those every body calls Your most affectionate humble fervant. IA Macher, and fometimes go out to courfe a with a brace of grey hounds, a mastiff, and a fpaniel or two; and when I am weary with courfing, and have killed hares enough, go to an alehoufe to refresh myself. I beg the favour of you, as you fet up for a reformer, to fend us 'word how many dogs you will allow us to go 6 with, how many full-pots of ale to drink, and how many hares to kill in a day, and you 'will do a great piece of fervice to all the sportsmen: be quick then, for the time of courfing is come on. < Richmond, Sept. 5th, 1711. • Mr. Spectator, AM a boy of fourteen years of age, and have for this last year been under the tuition of a doctor of divinity, who has taken the fchool of this place under his care. From the gentleman's great tenderness to me and friendship to my father, I am very happy in learning my book with pleasure. We never leave off our diverfions any farther than to falute him at hours of play when he pleases to look on. It is impoffible for any of us to love our own parents bet- T ter than we do him. He never gives any of us an harth word; and we think it the greatest punishment in the world when he will not fpeak to any of us. My brother and I are both together inditing this letter: he is a year older than I am, but is now ready to break his heart that the doctor has not taken any notice of him thefe three days. If you please to print this he will fee it, and, we hope, taking it for my brother's earneft defire to be reftored to his favour, he will again fmile upon him. T."S.' < Your moft obedient fervant, • Mr. Spectator, OU have reprefented feveral forts of im Y you now · proceed, and defcribe fome of them in fets. It often happens in public affemblies, that a party nencies are of an equal pitch, act in concert, Yours in hafte, "Ifaac Hedgeditch,' No 169. THURSDAY, SEPT. 13. Ter. Andr. A&t. 1. Sc. 1. His manner of life was this: to bear with every body's humours; to comply with the inclinations and purfuits of thofe he converfed with; to contradict nobody; never to affume a fuperiority over others. This is the ready way to gain applaufe, without exciting envy. M AN is fubject to innumerable pains and forrows, by the very condition of humanity, and yet, as if nature had not fown evils enough Good-nature is more agreeable in converfation than wit, and gives a certain air to the countenance which is more amiable than beauty. It fhews virtue in the faireft light, takes off in fome measure from the deformity of vice, and makes even folly and impertinence fupportable. There is no fociety or converfation to be kept up in the world without good-nature, or fomething which must bear its appearance, and fupply its place. For this reason mankind have been forced to invent a kind of artificial humanity, which is what we exprefs by the word good-breeding. For if we examine thoroughly the idea of what we call fo, we fhall find it to be nothing elfe but an imitation and mimicry of good-nature, or in other terms, affability, complaifance and eafiness of temper reduced into an art. These exterior fhows and appearances of humanity render a man wonderfully popular and beloved when they are founded upon a real good-nature; but without it are like hypocrify in religion, or a bare form of holiness, which when it is difcovered, makes a man more deteftable than profeffed impiety. Good-nature is generally born with us; health, profperity and kind treatment from the world are great cherishers of it where they find it; but nothing is capable of forcing it up, where it does not grow of itself. It is one of the bleffings of a happy conftitution, which education may improve but not produce. Xenophon in the life of his imaginary prince, whom he defcribes as a pattern for real ones, is always celebrating the philanthropy or goodnature of his hero, which he tells us he brought into the world with him, and gives many remarkable inftances of it in his childhood, as well as in all the feveral parts of his life. Nay, on his death-bed, he defcribes him as being pleafed, that while his foul returned to him who made it, his body should incorporate with the great mother of all things, and by that means become beneficial to mankind. For which cafon, he gives his fons a pofitive order not to enshrine it in gold or filver, but to lay it in the earth as foon as the life was gone out of it. An inftance of fuch an overflowing of humanity, fuch an exuberant love to mankind could not have entered into the imagination of a writer, who had not a foul filled with great ideas, and a general benevolence to mankind. In that celebrated paffage of Saluft, where Cæfar and Cato are placed in fuch beautiful, but oppofite lights; Cæfar's character is chiefly made up of good-nature, as it fhewed itself in all its forms towards his friends or his enemies, his fervants or dependents, the guilty or the diftreffed. As for Cato's character, it is rather awful than amiable. Juftice feems most agreeable to the nature of God, and mercy to that of man. A Being who has nothing to pardon in himself, may reward every man according to his works; but he whofe very best actions must be seen with grains of allowance, cannot be too mild, moderate, and forgiving. For this reafon, among all the monstrous characters in human nature, there is none fo odious, nor indeed fo exquifitely ridiculous, as that of a rigid fevere temper in a worthlefs man. This part of good-nature, however, which confifts in the pardoning and overlooking of faults, is to be exercised only in doing ourselves juftice, and that too in the ordinary commerce and occurrences of life; for in the public administrations of justice, mercy to one may be cruelty to others. It is grown almost into a maxim, that goodnatured men are not always men of the most wit. This obfervation, in my opinion, has no foundation in nature. The greatest wits I have converfed with are men eminent for their humanity. I take therefore this remark to have been occafioned by two reafons. First, because ill-nature among ordinary obfervers paffes for wit. A fpiteful faying gratifies fo many little paffions in those who hear it, that it generally meets with a good reception. The laugh rifes upon it, and the man who utters it, is looked upon as a fhrewd fatirift. This may be one reafon, why a great many pleafant companies appear fo furprisingly dull, when they have endeavoured to be merry in print; the public being more juft than private clubs or affemblies, in diftinguishing between what is wit and what is ill-nature. Another reason why the good-natured man may fometimes bring his wit in queftion, is, perhaps, because he is apt to be moved with compaffion for thofe misfortunes or infirmities, which another would turn into ridicule, and by that means gain the reputation of a wit. The ill-natured man, though but of equal parts, gives himself a larger field to expatiate in; he expofes thofe failings in human nature which the other would cast a veil over, laughs at vices which the other either excufes or conceals, gives utterance to reflections which the other ftifies, falls indifferently upon friends or enemies, expofes the person who has obliged him, and, in short, flicks at nothing that may eftablish his character of a wit. It is no wonder therefore he fucceeds in it better than the man of humanity, as a perfon who makes ufe of indirect methods is more likely to grow rich than the fair trader. E e THE The END of the SECOND VOLUME. |